And now for Something completely different
by Tentarafoo
Summary: Cross-overs of different Fandoms with various incarnations of the X-Men. More information in the introduction.
1. Introduction

Hello there! Welcome to the weird part of fanfiction . net!

You might be asking yourself just what this is, so this here should serve both as an introduction to the following stories, as well as an explanation as to what I am doing.

I am under the conviction that you can cross X-Men with any other Fandom and still get a story (or at least a drabble) that isn't completely crack. Okay, maybe not every Fandom, but nearly. Since I'm too lazy to write some sort of epic with several lengthy chapters (at least I'll admit to it!) I want to write smaller stuff, snippets or short stories where I take one fandom and cross it with X-Men of any kind.

I won't promise you that I'll update this often, and it could happen that I'll just throw one small chapter of a kind out there and then leave it at that. This is practically me airing out my ideas while stretching my writing muscles (which, after years of neglect, are a bit rusty) and presenting it to the world.

If something you read here gives you an idea please give me a link! I always like reading crossovers, but they are kind of hard to find. And if you actually have a request then just ask! I can't promise you that I'll actually write something (could be that I don't know the Fandom) but I'll be sure to reply to you anyways.

And now... to the Cross-over Mobile!


	2. Assassin's Creed - Part 1

First up: X-Men and Assassin's Creed! I won't be writing much about the X-Men in this story (it's mostly about Desmond going _cra-azy_).

* * *

_"I would not have killed an innocent!"_

"Robert de Sablé. His life is mine."

_"Malik has told me about the arrogance you have displayed; your -disregard- for our ways!"_

_"-three simple tenets."_

_"Every man who was lost today, was lost because of you!"_

"I am _not_ a traitor!"

_"Peace be upon you... _Altair_."_

* * *

Desmond woke up with a strangled scream and for a second he thought he could taste blood in his mouth. Gasping in the darkness he grabbed for his alarm-clock that was hidden somewhere underneath a pile of books and print-outs from school, that he hadn't bothered to organize.

_03:46 _

"Fuck." Desmond swore softly, as he flopped down on his bed again. What in the world had he eaten before going to bed that he dreamt of running around and murdering people? And then getting killed himself?

'No... not me. Altair. Whoever that is supposed to be.' Desmond thought darkly. He didn't exactly get what had happened (even though it was _his_ dream damn it!) but he couldn't say that he had liked the man who had killed an 'innocent'.

"And a bunch of other people too..." Desmond murmured before turning away from his alarm-clock, mind set on getting some sleep before he had to get up for school tomorrow. It wasn't like he could skip again, on the one hand, because the teachers were already keeping an eye on him and on the other, because his parents had taken a vacation and were both home. Sure they would be gone again in a few days, his father being a high-ranking military officer and his mother a doctor, but while they relaxed he had to be on his best behaviour.

* * *

"Mr. Miles!" The voice thundered through the class room, as the history teacher looked just about ready to hurl the thick book he was holding across the room, his face already purple.

With a start Desmond's head shot up; he hadn't been getting much rest lately, despite sleeping more. (his parents were still home and wanted their 'baby boy' to have enough rest) He was still dreaming of Altair, running around killing people. Not just any people no, (though Desmond dearly wished that he would do more than just push all those annoying beggars away) but important ones. It scared Desmond just how consistent and detailed his dreams were, it was almost as if he could feel the ground flying underneath his feet when 'he' was running, hear the bells ring in the distance, _smell the blood as it gushed out of the open necks of the men lying in his hands, breathing their last-_

He flinched as he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Desmond?" It was Lucy, while they hadn't known each other for very long (her dad had moved due to his job and she had to change schools in the middle of their 2nd year) they were good friends.

"Desmond, are you alright?" she asked again, shaking his shoulder lightly.

"I-" He croaked out; he could feel the running down his face. "I need to get out."

Quicker than Lucy could react (quicker than Desmond _actually was_) he stood up and ran out of the room.

* * *

Abu'l Nuquoud. William of Montferrat. Majd Addin.

Those were the last people he had- _Altair _had killed. Feeling slightly sick he closed the Internet Explorer (school libraries, _seriously_) and powered the computer down. Those three people, and all the other ones too, had been _real_. And they had all died, or vanished, in 1191.

Desmond wasn't stupid, he just 'didn't apply himself' as his teachers would put it. And while history had always had that alluring charm of discovering something new and exciting and interesting, all those dates and names of regents that repeated themselves endlessly had always stopped Desmond from looking for more information outside of that, what his history teacher crammed down his throat.

So he couldn't have known any of this and then somehow dreamt about it. He hadn't even know in which crusade King Richard had been in, yet he had seen him talking to William what seemed like days before.

(Desmond could barely remember the real yesterday, too caught up in his dreams of Jerusalem, Acre and Damascus.)

But he had dreamt it, and from what little he had gathered, it really _had _been real.

'Okay.' Desmond thought to himself, decidedly _not_ thinking about the fact that he had been dreaming about (_remembering_) things from more than 800 years into the past.

'No more sleeping.'

* * *

"Desmond, you look like death warmed over. What's going on?" Lucy had appeared beside his locker, as Desmond got ready to go home.

"I already told you, it's nothing." Desmond, mumbled, not looking at her. It wasn't that he wanted to ignore her, but the lack of sleep hadn't helped his nerves at all and he didn't want to worry her any more than he already did.

'Talk about shooting yourself in the foot.' Desmond thought dejected.

"I'm not _stupid_. I want to help you, but if you don't tell me what's going on I can't!" Lucy was nearly shouting now.

"Lucy I-" Desmond tried but stopped. What was he supposed to tell her?

"I..." He tried again, looking away from her. "I need to figure this out myself, okay? But if I ever need help, I will tell you, okay? I promise"

He was still looking at the ground, but what he had said had been the truth.

"Okay." Lucy said, quietly this time. Desmond looked up and met her eyes that shone with uncertainty. He knew that Lucy was somewhat bossy and didn't like it when she didn't have all the facts. But she also knew that Desmond, for all his sarcasm and complaints rarely bothered someone for help.

"I'll hold you to that promise."

* * *

While sleeping less certainly had it's draw backs, Desmond didn't dream of death as much anymore. But this night had been different. He -Altair- had been supposed to finally kill Robert de Sablé, but there had been a woman in his stead. Altair thankfully hadn't killed her. (Desmond hadn't had to kill a woman, or child, so far and while he still saw blood all over his hands when he looked at them, he could at least take refuge in that.)

No instead he and Desmond had gone after Robert taking down a small army just to get to the bastard. (A one-on-one fight Richard had said, _as if._)

But what Robert had said, had made even Desmond shiver. Sure he hadn't really understood what was going on when he first dreamt of Solomon's Temple, but now his knowledge of the third crusade (and the time before it) could make a history professor green with envy. Desmond didn't only remember what he experienced together with Altair, he also started to remember the man's life and what he knew; his life before his father had died, the training with Al Mualim and many things more.

Al Mualim was a traitor. Sure, his mother had ripped him out of his sleep (it was their last day together as a family before his father had to leave again and his mother returned to her unforgiving shifts at the hospital-she wanted to do something together. _Hiking_.) but he knew it deep down in his bones that Altair would confront and kill Al Mualim.

It was the only time that Desmond looked forward to see what would happen to the man that had redeemed himself in his (and Malik's and many more) eyes.

* * *

Desmond stood in front of his bed awkwardly, for the first time _not_ trying to think of a way to stop his dreams, but rather encourage them. Hiking hadn't been as exhausting as he would have thought. Or maybe he was just used to ignoring his body's shouts of pain and discomfort, since Altair _never _paid it any mind.

'Great. Now I'm starting to act like him too!' Desmond thought angrily and flopped down on his bed, closing his eyes.

And waited.

And waited.

And...

* * *

Desmond (Altair) stood at the gates of Masyaf but nobody was there, safe for a single man near the well.

"Where is everyone?"

"Gone to see the master."

The one-sided conversation only confirmed Desmond's suspicions further. The man he (they?) were talking to was clearly brainwashed. But Desmond could sense that Altair was still in denial. (And how could he not be? Al Mualim was like a father to him, Desmond knew that.)

He fought the brainwashed men, soldiers of Masyaf, spoke with Malik and now even he couldn't deny the 'Master's' madness anymore.

Desmond could feel the devastation Altair felt as he finally lifted his blade against Al Mualim and cut him down.

His eyes burned both because of the prolonged use of the Eagle Vision and the indignation over Al Mualim's betrayel of the Brotherhood and his (_Altair's!_) trust.

Desmond couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the globe (a friggin' _hologram?_) that the Apple projected.

'This can't be happening- If this is all real...' It chilled Desmond to his very core. The brainwashing, even Altair's disorientation, could have been attributed to some sort of drug, but _this?_

'No... no!'

With a gasp Desmond woke up.

* * *

It was the middle of the night again, but Desmond couldn't care less. He curled into himself and hugged his knees, holding his eyes shut as if not seeing anything would make him forget (But he couldn't forget not ever again. He knew that now) He had just killed his father figure and found out that there was something out there that... defied absolutely everything he had known up to that point.

"Alshaya walaaq un-bekillhum mumkin..."* he murmured. Taking a deep breath he unfolded himself and opened his eyes...

... to see the world in black and grey.

For a moment Desmond was paralysed before he recognized the slightly burning feeling. _Eagle Vision_.

So it really was true. What he had seen, what he had done. It had really _happened_.

* * *

* Nothing is true, everything is permitted. As said in the first 'Assassin's Creed' game.

* * *

Sooo, that went differently then I expected.

There will probably be two more parts, and next time the X-Men will hopefully show up. You can all pretty much guess what Des' mutant ability is (let's call it _synchronisation_) but I really wanted to bring across the slow way that the Bleeding Effect creeps in, that's why I keep changing the pronouns around so often. Always thought it hit Des a bit suddenly in AC 2, when he was totally fine before.


End file.
